


An Occasion to Reinvent

by Hypocorismm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Bathing/Washing, F/M, Fluff, pretty much pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypocorismm/pseuds/Hypocorismm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is too tired to shower, so Scott helps her bathe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Occasion to Reinvent

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on Tumblr, but I wanted to share it here, officially.   
> Thanks to Meredith for beta'ing during her first week at college!  
> Without further ado, Skittles fluff!

Scott got the call while he was trying to get Isaac upstairs into Derek’s loft, the beta’s body limp as he was dragged up each flight of stairs. The necromancer had been merciless in her attempts to raise the dead of Beacon Hills for some zombie army, rambling on about how Beacon Hills was ripe for the taking and Scott honestly hadn’t had the energy to listen to her monologue.

No one had had the energy to do anything, actually, which was part of the necromancer’s plot. She had hexed the pack with some sort of energy drain that had them weary and lethargic. The wolves were alright, mostly, except Isaac who had been hit by a different hex in the graveyard half an hour before.

With the necromancer dealt with, Scott had sent his pack to sleep off the spell and to reconvene the next afternoon to debrief and, in all honesty, just hang out as the teenagers they kept forgetting they were. He knocked on the door to the loft, fishing his phone from his pocket and answering it without checking who it was.

“Hello?”

Scott could hear water falling, hitting against plastic, and a single, steady heartbeat on the other end before Stiles’ voice came through. “Scotty.”

“Hey Stiles, what’s up?”

“I need,” she said weakly. “I need help.”

“What,” Scott started to ask when the door slid open and Derek ducked down to lift Isaac off of Scott’s side. “Thanks,” he said to Derek. “What’s going on, Stiles?”

“Is everything okay?” Derek asked. Scott shrugged.

“I can’t, I can’t stand up,” she whispered, but it was loud enough for Scott to hear. “I need help.”

“I’ll be right there. Just stay where you are.”

He hung up and glanced at Isaac grumbling incoherently at Derek, deciding that Isaac would be okay. He hurried out of the industrial building and to his mother’s car, throwing himself into the driver side and starting the car up. He drove on instinct to the Stilinski home, and followed a path of lights turned on up to Stiles’ bathroom. She was slumped on the toilet cover, her head lolled against the wall as her eyes fought to stay open. The humans had been affected the most by the necromancer’s hex, plus Stiles had been covered in some sort of disgusting smelling paste by the necromancer before she tried to sacrifice her.

Scott sank to his knees in front of her, watching as she blinked slowly.

“Hey,” she murmured out sleepily.

“Hey Stiles, you should be sleeping.”

“I can’t. I smell too bad.”

“Yeah,” Scott chuckled. “I noticed that.”

“Jerk. You’re not supposed to tell girls they smell bad. You’re supposed to congratulate them on smelling like roses and sunshine.”

“Okay, Stiles, you smell like roses and sunshine, and sacrificial goo.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” Stiles muttered, lifting up a hand to wipe at her face. “I wanted to shower, but I can’t really, I can’t stand on my own.”

“You want me to shower with you?” Scott asked slowly. She nodded, then stopped, then shook her head.

“No, that would be weird. But I do need to bathe. Somehow.”

“I have an idea,” Scott said. He rooted around in the cupboard underneath the sink and drew out Stiles’ favorite bubble bath and returned to the tub. He drew the bath like he did for his mom after a really long shift, hot water but not hot enough to scald, with extra bubbles. Once the tub was full enough, he helped Stiles stand while he drew her shirt up over her head. She leaned heavily on him, her skin warm and horridly scented. But underneath that horrid stench was Stiles’ scent, spicy but inviting all the same. She tugged ineffectively at the button on her jeans, until Scott took pity on her and replaced her hands.

They’d undressed around each other before, for lacrosse games and when they had sleepovers at each other’s houses, but Scott had never undressed Stiles. Her skin was so soft where it was free of the goo, softer than what Scott normally associated with Stiles. Stiles was one of the guys in many ways. She was loud, she was brash, she never stopped to fix her hair or make-up. She just didn’t exude the same femininity that Lydia or Allison or Kira did, and that’s why he liked Stiles so much. She didn’t terrify him.

Well, she did terrify him, but not in the same way other girls did.

“Is this weird?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles, we passed weird a couple of years ago, this is fine.”

It was fine, Scott thought, pushing her jeans down, until they pooled around her ankles. She stumbled out of them, bumping and bouncing off of him. He held her close against him by her hips. She wore so many layers that Scott hadn’t noticed when Stiles had grew into a woman’s figure and then one day, she wore just a tank top to school and Scott couldn’t believe it. This was the same girl who had asked him about Pull Ups when they were four and dared him to eat dirt when they were six, kicked Jackson in the shin for giving him a hard time about his parents when they were 8, kissed him so he didn’t have to be the only sixth grader at Lydia’s party without their first kiss, and stuck around when she could have become so much more popular than Scott McCall ever would have.

“Hey, Scotty?” Stiles said as Scott stepped back, releasing her hips.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t go anywhere, okay? I don’t wanna slip into the tub and drown.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here,” he said.

“Good. Turn around.”

Scott turned around, trying not to listen to the clasp on Stiles’ bra unhooking or the material of her underwear hitting the tile. He tried not to listen to her slight hiss at the temperature of the water as she stepped into the tub or the grateful moan she made as she slipped into the water.

“Okay, you’re good,” she said. Scott sat down next to the tub while Stiles made mountains out of the bubbles in the tub. “I used to take bubble baths with you.”

“What? No, we didn’t.”

“Scott, we were five and there’s photographic evidence,” she said. “You and me, we bubble bathed it up together. If that isn’t true friendship, I don’t know what is.”

“Sticking around you when you reek of rot and sewer,” Scott offered. Stiles playfully threw a handful of bubbles at him.

“Stand up and grab me the shampoo and conditioner, will you?”

Scott did as she asked and brought down the bottles. She smiled but Scott could see the exhaustion dragging even at that simple motion. She looked on the verge of passing out.

The bottle slipped from her soapy hands as she tried to lift in and fell into the tub with a splash.

“Well, fuck,” she grumbled. She looked at Scott, and Scott almost melted. Her lower lip was stuck out in a pout, her whiskey eyes wide and shimmering. He drew in a breath and leaned towards her, dipping his hand into the water. He fished around and eventually came up with the bottle.

“Turn towards the wall, tip your head back,” he instructed. He grabbed a cup from under the sink and filled it in the bath water. She sloshed around in the tub and finally settled with her back to him, her knees hugged to her chest. He tipped her head back and poured the water slowly over her hair. She hummed.

“I miss this. I was really angry when I grew out of having someone help me bathe. I like people playing with my hair. That’s why I like haircuts so much,” she mumbled. Scott scratched lightly at her scalp and she hummed happily again. He tamped down a smile and dipped the cup again into the water. He continued dipping the cup in and pouring the water over her head until all of her thick hair was dripping. She’d begun growing it out last year from the short, almost page boy style she claimed was the easiest. She could even pull it up into a ponytail for practices. She liked to twist it up into a clip now that she could, and Scott noticed how much more she resembled Claudia like that.

“You haven’t had a haircut in a while,” Scott commented, setting the cup down and picking up the shampoo. He squeezed out enough and started rubbing it through her hair, listening to a low moan vibrate in her chest. She leaned into his hands, letting him scrub the soap through.

“Dad said I looked like Mom one night, and I couldn’t bring myself to cut it after. My mom was beautiful,” Stiles said, looking over her shoulder at Scott. “I just want to be half as beautiful as she was.”

“Stiles,” Scott said. “You are more than half as beautiful as her. You are as beautiful, if not more.”

Stiles scoffed.

“I mean it. I remember your mom, and she was beautiful, yes. But you know what’s amazing about you, Stiles?”

She shook her head.

“You’re Claudia Stilinski, and John Stilinski’s daughter. You have parts from both of them. You have Claudia’s eyes and her frame, but you have the Sheriff’s smile and his dumb habits, and you are absolutely gorgeous.”

Stiles twisted to look at him, staring straight into his eyes.

“I wish I could hear your heartbeat.”

Scott dipped his hands into the water and took one of hers. He pressed it against his chest, not paying any attention to the moisture collecting in the fabric of his shirt.

“You feel that?” he asked. She nodded. “You are beautiful.”

She bit her lip and curled her hand into his shirt. Scott wasn’t sure if time actually froze or if he imagined it did, but he could have sworn they’d stared at each other for hours. He memorized the moles dotting Stiles’ cheeks, the upturn of her nose, the exaggerated bow of her upper lip, the way she ran her tongue nervous over her bottom lip, all things he’d noticed in passing before in his best friend but had never taken the time to study.

He kissed her.

Or maybe she kissed him.

The kiss was soft, wet with water dripping from her hair. She shifted so she could get to him easier, giving no thought to the fact that she was naked. He didn’t care, either. She was so soft and melded into him like no other ever had.

She whimpered, and pulled away. She sank into the water again, putting her fingertips to her lips. She was smiling.

“I’ve wanted to do that since we were 13.”

Scott stared at her.

“What?” she asked after a minute.

“You should’ve.”

“What? Just kissed you out of the blue? You gave me no indication that you even thought of me as a girl let alone dateable.”

“I’ve loved you since we were four.”

“Loving and being in love are not the same thing.”

Scott shuffled close to the tub and then leaned over the edge.

“I am in love with you, Stiles.”

She grinned, reached up, and flicked bubbles into his face. He laughed and reached into the tub, sending a wave of water splashing up onto Stiles’ face. Even exhausted, Stiles was not by any means going to be bested in a fight, play or otherwise. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward, into the tub with her.

“What about Allison?” she asked suddenly.

“Allison and I are over, Stiles. She’s happy with Isaac.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I don’t know, but I want her to be happy. But mostly,” he said, leaning over her with a smile. “Mostly, I want you to be happy, and I want you to be happy with me.”

She sat up and kissed him. He kissed her.

“I want that, too.”


End file.
